Quietly she padded out to the kitchen and started some coffee. The fire had died down to smoldering embers. She debated whether or not to start it again. She’d spend the entire day at the shop so no one would be around to tend it. Nah, let it burn out. When she got home tonight she’d be able to clean it out and start another.
As she stood there waiting for the first strong cup of coffee to brew, a truck made its way down her drive. Needing a better look, she squinted and leaned toward the window. As it came closer her heart rate sped up, her stomach knotted and anger flared.
“Damn it, what the hell does he want?” She watched as Bill parked, slid out and slammed the door.
He went to the back of his truck and pulled out a chainsaw, carried it toward the end of the house and stopped. Oh boy, he saw all the wood stacked. Chance swallowed hard. How would she explain it? In less than twenty-four hours she had a winter’s worth of wood cut, split and ready for burning.
“I don’t have to explain it,” she reminded herself. It wasn’t any of his business. He gave her permission to use the downed trees and that’s all she needed.
Bill disappeared from sight for a few moments. Chance ran to the living room, grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around herself, clutching it to her neck. He’d be at the door any moment with a thousand questions. Waiting gnawed at her nerves. She paced in the tiny kitchen, never letting her gaze drift from the window. As three minutes ticked off the clock she grew more anxious. Where was he? What was he doing?
Chance glanced back toward her bedroom and thought about waking Hayes. No. She had to deal with this herself. Before venturing out she slipped her feet into her work boots and grabbed the fireplace poker. After tucking it beneath the blanket so it couldn’t be seen, she stepped outside and heard the thunk of wood hitting the ground.
Confusion and panic mixed in her gut. Chance ran to the end of the house and found Bill pulling log after log off the pile and tossing it to the ground. Stunned, she could only stand there and watch as he pushed against the wall of firewood and it crashed to the ground.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Her fist tightened around the handle of the poker as the other pulled the blanket securely around her body.
Bill looked up, his cold, scary glare making her take a step back. No way, she would not let this man think he frightened her. It would only fuel his agenda, whatever it may be. As he stalked toward her, his gaze never wavering from her face, she stood her ground.
“You’ve been busy, haven’t ya?” he growled, sounding more like a rabid animal than a man.
“As a matter of fact I have. What’s it to you?” He stopped only a few feet from her. In her head she mapped out an escape route. The man staring at her wasn’t the man she’d been friendly with all these months. This creep, she didn’t know.
“Where’d ya get all that wood?” His fists clenched and then relaxed before balling up tight again at his sides.
What was his problem? “Bill, go home. I have a lot of work to do today and need to get started. I don’t have time for this.” She wanted him gone, now.
“I asked you a question, woman. Answer it!” he snapped.
Chance flinched at his loud, harsh tone. A thick vein protruded and throbbed at the side of his temple as his face grew red. Even his eyes were sparkling and it clearly wasn’t joy shining there.
“I don’t have to answer to you for anything,” she told him in a careful tone. No need in poking the bear, as Hayes said. “This is my property, my home, and I’m asking you politely to leave.”
“This might be your property,” he grumbled and then pointed to the scattered wood. “But you got that wood off my property. I told you I would come over and haul it out. I would cut it up. I would split it. You did not have my consent to get it yourself. Who did all this?”
Jesus, were his eyes throbbing now? The man standing in front of her would make young children run screaming and yeah, she would be doing the same thing if not for his high-and-mighty tone. Where did he get off thinking he could control her like this? Chance tilted her head to the side and frowned.
“I’m sorry? Did you not understand the words, ‘I don’t have to answer to you for anything’? Let me make it clear for you. It’s none of your damn business, Bill. Go home.”
In a flash of movement he reached out, grabbed her arm beneath the blanket and jerked her hard against his body. His other hand snagged the back of her hair, yanking her head back and bringing tears to her eyes from the sharp pain. Damn it, he pinned the poker between them so she couldn’t defend herself.
“You use my truck for your silly, meaningless hobby and don’t repay me, and now you’ve chopped up my wood to heat that pathetic excuse for a home. You owe me.” His hand released her hair and slid down her back until he cupped her ass and squeezed.
Chance bucked against him, trying to free herself. “Get your filthy hands off me,” she shouted and then stomped down as hard as she could on his foot. The effort was fruitless, he barely even noticed.
“My hands will touch any part of you I like,” he mumbled and squeezed her ass harder, to the point of pinching the flesh. “I get what I’m owed, little missy, with interest. You don’t want to play the game nicely and pay willingly then I’m forced to take it.”
He leaned down, trying to touch her mouth with his thin, disgusting lips. Chance screamed, jerked her head to the side and brought her knee up. The connection did the trick. Bill grunted, released her and then doubled over. Taking her opening, Chance turned and ran for the front of the house. If she could get through the door and get it locked, she could call the police.
Steps away from safety, a bone-jarring blow to her back knocked her to her knees. She hit the ground hard, her head spinning and her eyes blurry. Harsh, mean hands gripped her shoulder, digging into flesh and muscle as he jerked her body over. It took a few blinks before she could focus on Bill standing over her.
“You just keep adding to the tab, don’t ya? That’s okay. I’ll enjoy collecting.” He bent down, tore the blanket out of her clenched fist and just as he reached to tear her top, he jerked backward.
Terror had her frozen. Chance could only lie there, holding the useless poker and watching as Hayes drilled his fist into Bill’s face. It only took one blow and Bill stumbled backward, holding his bleeding nose.
“Who the fuck are you?” he growled as blood dripped from between his fingers.
Hayes pointed at the man, his face a mask of rage so frightening Chance didn’t understand why Bill wasn’t running for his life. “You touch her again, you so much as even think about her, and I’ll make sure you end up this county’s biggest mystery.”
Chance’s mouth dropped open at the malevolent, dark and inhuman voice that emanated from Hayes’ throat. Worse, he didn’t appear to be standing on the ground, but hovering, and was that steam rolling from his wrists? Gathering her wits, she scrambled to her feet and stumbled toward Hayes.
“What the hell are you?” Bill staggered backward toward his truck.
“Your worst nightmare,” Hayes responded in a deep, booming voice. In a blur of movement, a mere blink of time, he appeared right in front of Bill.
He might be vicious and cruel but he wasn’t stupid. Bill shouted his fright and then ran for the truck. Chance stood dumbfounded, watching him clamber behind the wheel, start the truck and tear out of her driveway. Neither she nor Hayes moved until the vehicle hit the main road and took off. Only then, when Bill’s truck squealed down the road, did she feel the painful, bone-cracking thud of her heart hammering so violently.
Hayes fell to the ground in a crumpled heap, wrapped his arms around his stomach and cried out as if in pain. That sound, that horrid, gut-wrenching bellow snatched her from her stupor. She ran to him, dropped to her knees and witnessed the steam rolling thickly off his wrists.
“Hayes, what is it? What’s happening?” She wanted to touch him. Her hands hovered over his back but fear kept her from making contact. What
if her touch caused him more pain?
He didn’t answer, only jerked and heaved as if his insides were being shredded. Terror gripped her as blood began to trickle from his lips, dropping to the dead, dry leaves beneath him. His body quickly grew soaked with sweat with each hard, racking wave of pain.
“What can I do?” Fat tears rolled down her cheeks, dripping from her chin.
“Nothin’,” he grunted. “Punishment.”
Suddenly the smell of burning flesh hit her senses, causing her gag reflex to kick in. Slapping her hand over her mouth, she watched in horror as the flesh around his wrists seared and blistered over and over. What could he possibly be punished like this for? Who would be so cruel?
Hayes began to tremble uncontrollably, the shaking so tremendous he fell to his side and curled into a tight ball. Chance ran for her blanket, returned and draped it over him.
“No,” he managed, his enormous brown eyes so full of pain gazing up at her. “You. Cold.”
“Damn it,” she whimpered. “Stop worrying about me. I’m fine. What can I do to help you?” There had to be something, anything. She couldn’t stand this.
His hand poked out from beneath the blanket, shaking violently, reaching for her. Chance took it, stretched out beside him and pressed it to her face.
“Stay.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she promised. Using her free hand, she stroked his cheek. “I’m here and I’m not leaving you.” Inside her head she pleaded and screamed for it to stop.
Together they lay there on the ground. Chance wrapped around him, trying to keep him warm until his groaning and trembling stopped. Silent moments passed but each sound of his ragged breathing assured her she hadn’t lost him. Desperate to ease his distress in any way possible, she stroked his hair and wiped away the cold sweat. Meaningless she knew, but the only comfort she had to offer.
“Chance.”
Her name came out a scratchy, weak sound. “I’m here.”
“Inside.”
“Yeah, okay.” She didn’t know how to get him inside but even if she had to drag him by the arms, she’d get him there.
Before she had a chance to move he pulled her to him, gazed into her eyes and the next thing she knew they were on the floor of her living room. Later she would think about that but right now she had to clean him up and get him comfortable.
“Sorry, didn’t have enough to make it to the bedroom.”
Chance cupped his clammy cheek. “I’ll bring the bedroom to you. Relax.”
Grabbing every blanket she could find and her pillow, she rushed back to him, propped his head up and encased him in a thick cocoon of warmth. Every slight movement of his body made him groan in pain. As gently as she could, Chance removed his boots and was shocked to feel how cold his feet were.
“Do you want me to undo your jeans? It might help.”
“Don’t think anythin’ will help.”
Well, she thought it might. How many times did she run home to shed pants when the bloating got bad or she’d eaten something that didn’t agree with her? “Too bad, I’m gonna do it anyway.”
Chance slid her hands beneath the blankets and worked all the buttons free. Hayes took a shaky but relieved breath and then smiled at her. His color had gone ashen, even his bloodstained lips looked paper-white.
“I’m gonna start a fire and then clean you up. It isn’t good to lie in all that sweat.”
He took her hand, stopping her from leaving. “You need to go to work.”
“I’m not going anywhere and leaving you like this and you won’t be able to follow me. Jenny can handle the shop. I’ll call her later. She’ll understand.”
“Chance.”
“No!” The word came out harsh and thick. Her emotions were getting to her. “Don’t argue with me, damn it.” She tugged her hand from his and went in search of a large bowl and towels.
Once she had everything she needed, she started a fire. Hayes seemed to be sleeping nestled under all the covers. Good. She didn’t think she could talk right now. Not without breaking down. And the thing was, her fragile emotional state had nothing to do with her encounter with Bill, at least she didn’t think so anyway. No, seeing Hayes in agony as if he might die, that destroyed her.
A tear trickled free, rolled down her cheek and dripped onto the hearth. This punishment he endured, it had something to do with her. Exactly how she couldn’t be sure but something she did brought it on. God, what an awful way to live. Chance brushed another tear away and busied herself soaking a cloth, wringing it out and then dunking it again.
She touched it ever so gently to his lips and washed the dried blood caked there. Hayes didn’t stir, not even a flinch. Next she cleaned the rest of his face, thinking it would work better in the tub. This would have to do though. He couldn’t walk and she couldn’t carry him.
After pulling the blankets back, she opened his damp shirt, worked it down over his shoulders and wiggled and tugged until she could get his sleeves down. Somehow she managed to remove the material and left it bunched beneath him. To her relief his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm.
Her hand glided over the hard planes of his sculpted chest and then moved lower to his exquisitely defined abs before drifting to where his jeans lay open. Her gaze followed that thin line of dark hair down as her hand froze just above the denim. Jesus, what the hell was wrong with her? She shouldn’t be looking at him like this. Moments ago blood trickled from his mouth, his body contorted and trembled in excruciating pain and she had no idea if he would recover from any of it.
Still, after everything she’d been through in the last fifteen minutes she couldn’t help herself. This man had managed to capture her heart and mind in record time. Her, a woman who learned early in life caring for herself would be the only way to capture any type of happiness. Now, here she sat consumed with worry, sick at the thought of never seeing him smile again or hearing his laughter and a deep lust she couldn’t seem to control.
No man had ever affected her like this. Sure, she did her time dating, being intimate with others, but in the end it all left her empty and unsatisfied. Hayes, he filled her up with his inquisitive nature, his hard work ethic and his need to treat her like a gift rather than an object. Every little meaningless gesture from her the man accepted with humble appreciation.
This was a man she could love and it didn’t seem to frighten her in the least. No, realizing he’d be gone for good if she didn’t find a way to free him from the bonds of that fucking bottle, that scared the hell out of her. That knowledge pulled a sob from her chest and a fresh wave of tears to her eyes. She’d find a way. She had to. Even if he chose not to stay with her, knowing his torment had ended would give her peace.
Hayes’ hand slipped over hers and pressed down into his lower abdomen. She gasped, fearing the pressure would cause him pain. Their gazes met and held.
“Are you okay?”
His voice sounded so horribly weak and timid it broke her heart. His insides could be a pureed mess for all she knew and he wanted to know if she was okay. Damn it, every second made her fall for this man more.
“I’m fine, Hayes.”
“He didn’t—” He swallowed hard, actually had to work at it and then tried to reach out and touch her face with his other hand.
“No.” She knew what he wanted to ask. Telling him about the bastard’s hand on her ass served no purpose at the moment.
Hayes took a relieved breath. “I heard you shout for him to get his hands off you. I rushed for the door and then heard you scream. When I saw him standin’ over you, the look on his face and his hand reachin’ for you, I lost control. I hope I didn’t frighten you.”
Chance pressed her cheek into his hand. “I wasn’t scared of you, not even when you were floating above the ground and speaking with a demonic voice.” No lie. At this point it wasn’t possible for her to be afraid of him. “You’re my hero.”
He winced, actually flinched away from her at the word. “I
’m no hero, Chance.”
“Well, that’s your opinion. Mine’s the one that counts at this moment.” A slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips and eased some of her anxiety. “How do you feel?”
“The fire and thirty blades twirling around inside me have stopped. I’ll be good as new shortly.”
She glanced down at his wrist. Fat, ugly blisters were forming. Yeah, good as new. “Tell me what you did to deserve this inhuman punishment.” She lifted his hand from her cheek and held it in hers, inspecting the blisters carefully.
“I broke a rule.”
His nonchalant shrug spiked her anger. “I understand that. What rule did you break exactly? What could you have done so damn bad that it warranted this torture? That’s what it is, you know. Torture.”
He shrugged again. “It isn’t important, Chance. What’s important is that slug will think twice before comin’ back here and puttin’ his hands on you.”
She noted a gold and green glint in his eyes as he spoke. Probably the same thing Bill saw when Hayes jumped out of nowhere and into his face. “I appreciate that, believe me, but I still want to know what you did to receive such horrid treatment. I won’t let it go until I have my answer.” He wouldn’t brush her off, not this time.
“Stubborn woman,” he groused. “Luckily for you, I like that.”
“Oh I can make you like me a whole lot more then.” A few hours of the silent treatment or maybe even a bit of teasing with his bottle and he’d like her so much he’d blab every secret he learned over the past century and a half. “Never doubt my devious mind.”
Hayes chuckled and then groaned at the discomfort it brought him. “I don’t doubt your mind. I’ve met scholars, scientists, the mega-wealthy who thought they were brilliant and you are the most intelligent person I’ve come across. No, doubtin’ your mind is not somethin’ I’ll risk. I don’t want to tell you, plain and simple.”
Her mouth dropped open at his stark honesty. “Don’t make me pull out the master thing. I despise it but I’ll do what I have to.” She glanced down where his hand rested on top of hers, close to his manhood. Who needed the bottle when she could get the satisfaction of actually feeling his flesh and tempting the answer out of him?
WhiskeyBottleLover Page 12
